


A Place Apart

by wingeddserpent



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 22:11:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingeddserpent/pseuds/wingeddserpent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kotetsu has this thing about hospitals. Set after the Martinez fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Place Apart

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Revelation" by Robert Frost.

Around nine-thirty that morning, Barnaby stops lacing up his boots to answer Kotetsu’s call. “How are you feeling?” Barnaby asks, then grimaces, glad that Kotetsu can’t actually see him. 

“What, no hello?” Kotetsu asks, “Eh, Bunny, I’m fine. Great. Actually, do you want to do something today? You know, since we’re on leave and all?”

Barnaby shuts his eyes, counts downwards from seven, matching the even in-out of his breath. “You’re supposed to be in the hospital, old man.”

In the pause that follows, Barnaby nearly wishes that they were having this conversation over video, because he clearly imagines Kotetsu’s frown, the way his whole face is probably crumpling with displeasure and the morbid part of Barnaby wants to know whether or not he’s right. “They discharged me last night, Bunny,” Kotetsu pushes out quickly, like ripping off a band-aid, “I though maybe you’d—ah. You know? Never mind. You’re probably busy, right?”

“No. Not at all. I have interviews scheduled for tomorrow, but nothing today. Kotetsu, you really shouldn’t have—“

Barnaby swallows, remembers too-sharply, the ashen pallor of Kotetsu’s face, the blood seeping through bandage, shirt, _and_ vest, visiting his partner in the hospital just yesterday—how his voice had roughened with pain whenever the meds started wearing off. He can almost hear Kotetsu’s shrug. “Doctor said I was good to go.”

“I’ll be there soon,” Barnaby says, then disconnects. 

He’s over to Kotetsu’s apartment quicker than he thought possible, especially considering he’s never been before. Barnaby knocks sharply and hears Kotetsu yell, “Come in!”

Barnaby isn’t sure what he was expecting, but somehow, this isn’t it. The apartment is simple in a cozy, old-fashioned way, nothing like Barnaby’s apartment. Of course, Kotetsu seems to have a collection of Mr. Legend paraphernalia, as well as a jumble of beer cans and liquor bottles strewn about. He finds Kotetsu in the kitchen, hands braced on the counter, bent slightly. “Sorry about the mess,” Kotetsu says, “If I’d known…”

The kitchen seems fairly clean, though it’s a recent development, he guesses by the still drying counters and the wet dishes in the rack beside the sink; Barnaby swallows. Kotetsu did this for him, even though now he is hanging onto the counter with a white-knuckled grip, his face pale beneath the tan. “That’s not important. I honestly thought it would be worse—I’ve seen your desk, remember?” Barnaby looks him over, again, asks, “What are you doing out of bed, anyway? Go sit. Have you eaten?” Barnaby’s fingers twitch, but he keeps his hands at his sides. 

“Bunny, Bunny, you’re my guest—let me—“ Kotetsu straightens without wincing, but Barnaby can tell he’s in pain from the care he takes with the normally effortless motion, and he wants to shake the stubborn old fool until he understands. “You worry too much, Bunny,” he says with a reassuring smile. 

Barnaby shakes his head, hair brushing his chin. “Just go sit.”

This time, Kotetsu winces, but amazingly, he does listen and makes his way carefully back into the disaster of a living room, and Barnaby just sighs, because Kotetsu can’t hide that he’s not healed all the way yet. Kotetsu is still moving with ginger care, still has pudgy purple circles under his eyes, his face is still strained and lines. He looks fragile in a way Barnaby never wants to be accustomed to. 

Perhaps forty years from now, it would be all right. Barnaby stills, hands hovering over Kotetsu’s still shining wet counter. He’s never thought about it before, the future. Never thought about ten, twenty, forty years from now. Everything that had mattered was finding Ouroboros, was finding the man who murdered his parents. With with that chapter of his life completed, could he perhaps—

Barnaby tries to envision it: Kotetsu nearly eighty, his beard still well-groomed and silly as ever, except silver. Would he cut his hair or would it be long still? Though, he’d probably still be wearing that paperboy hat, but it would seem different, because his eyes would be failing, so he’d wear black-rectangle rimmed glasses. And the old man would _really_ be old, covered in wrinkles, a little stooped, but his legs would be too long, still, and so he would continue to trip and bump into everything. Barnaby smiles, because of course at age eighty, Kotetsu would keep meddling and helping everyone he could. Probably making plenty of mistakes, too. 

It’s a nice image. At that age, Kotetsu would most likely have a gaggle of grandchildren, all clamoring to hear stories from their grandfather who had been a Hero, who had saved people and fought crime. His daughter—Barnaby will need to look at the pictures in the living room more carefully, to better picture what she looks like—would smile and tell them stories about what a klutzy dork he was and Kotetsu would insist he had been the coolest _ever_ , to which Barnaby would say—

Barnaby’s throat closes up. He shakes his head, his hand clenching to a fist, and he checks Kotetsu’s fridge, only to find some dubious-looking sandwich makings, a chicken breast, a few cans of cheap beer, and, of course, a mostly empty container of mayonnaise. “Would take-out be suitable?” asks Barnaby after a moment. 

“Sure! Anything’s better than hospital food, Bunny! I’d even eat vegetables now, if I had to,” Kotetsu says, like eating vegetables is some unfathomable torture. 

It shouldn’t make him laugh, but it does, shoulders shaking. Even after nearly being killed by a psychopath, even after saving Barnaby and the entirety of Stern Bild, Kotetsu is the exact same as ever and there’s a mad, elated, juvenile, wonderful part of Barnaby that wants to dash in there and pull the old man into a hug. Barnaby shifts, pushing his glasses more firmly up his nose, before he heads into the living room so that they can converse like real human beings. 

“What would you like?” Barnaby asks, noting that Kotetsu had moved all the bottles and cans onto the coffee table. 

Kotetsu leans back into the couch, puffing out a contented sigh. “You’re the guest,” he says with a grin, “Why don’t you decide?”

They wind up ordering Thai food, but only after arguing about it, of course, because even when Kotetsu _says_ he’ll be polite and let his guest decide, the old man simply can’t help himself. But Barnaby finds he doesn’t really mind. While they wait, Kotetsu carefully rearranges himself into a more comfortable position, corners of his eyes tense with pain. “Did they give you medication?”

“Yes,” Kotetsu says, face smoothing into a smile, but his amber eyes are a little glassy. 

“I see,” replies Barnaby, leaning back to examine him, one eyebrow arched, “And are you taking it?”

The brief pause before Kotetsu responds is all the answer he needs. Barnaby rises, then moves to stand in front of the stupid, reckless, _moron_ he calls a partner. “You leave the hospital after only two days and now you’re not taking your medication?” He glares down at Kotetsu, lips pressed into a thin line. 

Not meeting his eyes, Kotetsu shakes his head, holding up his hands as if to ward off Barnaby’s concern. Turning, Barnaby follows Kotetsu’s gaze and sees—a line of pictures on the mantelpiece. Kotetsu and his wife smiling in swimsuits, his wife holding their infant daughter, Kotetsu’s wedding picture, and Kotetsu holding his daughter. Barnaby turns back to his partner. “Kotetsu, either you take your medication or I will take you back to the hospital.”

Kotetsu flinches, but stands so they are face to face. “I’m just fine, Bunny,” he says, voice low and raspy, “I’m sleeping in the oxygen chamber and everything. You don’t need to worry.”

“…If you would take care of yourself and not lie to me, I wouldn’t need to. The oxygen chamber isn’t good enough!” Barnaby snaps, reaching out to grab Kotetsu’s shoulders, but he has at least enough sense not to shake him. 

Kotetsu’s throat bobs as he swallows and his expression is tired and raw enough to make him seem much older than he had a few minutes ago. “I… okay. I’ll take ‘em with dinner, okay, Bunny?” but he sounds exhausted and almost defeated, maybe a bit small, and these are traits Barnaby _hates_ to find in his partner, this shining light that has violently burst into his life 

Almost, almost, Barnaby thinks about relenting but he doesn’t, because it really wouldn’t help Kotetsu in the long run, and that’s what Barnaby wants to do, is help Kotetsu like Kotetsu’s helped him. He squeezes Kotetsu’s shoulders, but then the doorbell rings and—before Kotetsu can insist he’s paying—Barnaby goes to answer the door. 

He returns with the cartons of Thai food to find that Kotetsu’s seated again. “I have forks and chopsticks in the kitchen, in the second drawer to the right of the stove. Could you get me a pair of chopsticks, please?” Kotetsu asks, smiling like he hasn’t been bullied into taking care of himself. 

They eat in silence, but Barnaby watches Kotetsu and his dexterous use of the chopsticks. He’s normally so clumsy and, well, Barnaby has seen him with a fork and the man eats fried rice with a _spoon_ , so it rather surprises him, to watch Kotetsu catch pieces of meat and vegetable and noodles, even, easily in his chopsticks. Barnaby eats his curry and pretends not to notice that Kotetsu barely makes it through half his meal. That at least, is a kindness Barnaby can offer. 

Kotetsu rises and comes back shortly thereafter with two glasses of water and a pill bottle. He sets one of the glasses on an empty space on the table near Barnaby, then sits down. 

And then he takes two of the pills without any fuss at all, save for a grimace. “I really appreciate it,” says Kotetsu, “You coming over. Sorry I’m such a mess.”

“No problem. I’ll leave soon, however, so that you can rest,” he says, offering his partner a slight smile. 

They lull into silence and that, more than anything, makes Barnaby nervous, because Kotetsu is normally so full of energy, jittering and never still, and Kotetsu hates silence, fills it chronically, even if his words are absolutely meaningless. 

And then, “Are you okay, Bunny?” I know that this has all been really hard on you. Have you been eating? Sleeping?”

Barnaby feels the stiffness leave his body, even as he says, “More meddling, old man?” but he continues, “I—I’ve had a lot to think about, honestly. But I feel like, well, it’s silly, but I feel as though I’m finally breathing.”

Reminiscent of a child at a fair, Kotetsu just lights up, the pain and worry all but evaporating, and Barnaby can do nothing except smile back at him. “Ah, Bunny,” Kotetsu says, voice a little rough with warmth, “It’s not silly at all.”

And Barnaby looks away then, feeling the pink flush in his cheeks, and when he does, his gaze lands on another picture, Kotetsu’s daughter in a magenta polka-dotted ice-skating uniform. It comes to him, dawning, and he looks wildly at Kotetsu, who had never said a damn thing.

“That girl at the ice rink that day with Tony,” he blurts, “I saved your daughter. That’s why you thanked me.” 

Kotetsu turns to look at the photo, his smile softer at the edges, the glassy look in his eyes more of a mist now. “Yes,” he says, voice raw, and he swallows, coughs, and stares down at his hands. “I could save your life a million times and never come close to making up for—“ and his voice just gives out and he shrugs, wincing with the movement. 

Barnaby honestly has no idea what to say, so he just doesn’t, sits there instead, beside Kotetsu, who of course fills the silence with praise about his daughter and Barnaby can’t find it in himself to want to stop him. For a while, they stay like that, until Kotetsu nods off. Barnaby grabs Kotetsu a pillow and a blanket, then carefully lets himself out. The best thing Kotetsu can do right now is sleep. 

* * *

At around noon the following day, Barnaby stops by Kotetsu’s apartment with all the trappings for a healthy smoothie he found the recipe for on the internet. This time, Kotetsu opens the door, his grin a little worn. “Morning,” he says and he looks exhausted, like a puff of air will knock him back, if not down. “Are those vegetables?” he asks, eyeing the bag in Barnaby’s arms. 

“As well as fruit and a blender,” Barnaby follows Kotetsu into the kitchen and then sets to emptying his bag on the counter. 

Kotetsu bustles around, pulls out a cutting board and a knife, washes his hands, then begins by chopping up a banana. “I thought you had interviews today?”

It’s said casually, but Barnaby glances at him, sees the tense line of his shoulders. “I did them earlier. Old man, did you take your medication?”

“Eh? Of course I did—“ Kotetsu rinses the knife, then slices up the strawberries. 

Barnaby stills as he frees the blender from its box, then glances over at Kotetsu. “You seem worse than you did yesterday.”

“Must’ve slept on my shoulder funny,” he says, puffing himself up, whole stance shouting that under no circumstances will Kotetsu consent to discuss the matter further. And then, expelling a breath, he asks, “Bunny, why did you bring me something so healthy? It’s not good for me.”

Laughing would only encourage him, so Barnaby settles instead for a heavy sigh as he drops all the necessary ingredients into the blender. “Maybe if you took better care of yourself, I wouldn’t have to _torture_ you, if that’s what you want to call it.”

Kotetsu grumbles something, but Barnaby drowns out the complaints with the growl of the blender. 

It surprises him, but Kotetsu sits down and drinks the entirety of his smoothie without whining once. “Could’ve used more sugar—pineapple, maybe…” Kotetsu smiles at him. “Thanks, Bunny.”

Barnaby nods, leaning back into the cushions of the couch. “Have you eaten?” Kotetsu asks, propping up his feet on the table, eyes fluttering shut. 

“I did; Nathan and I ate after the interviews,” replies Barnaby, watching the even rise and fall of Kotetsu’s chest. 

And he just barely resists the urge to reach out for his partner, swallowing thickly. Barnaby wants to ask how his injuries are doing, if he’s really taking his medication, but he winds up staring at the picture of Kotetsu’s wife and child. 

“Eh, Bunny,” Kotetsu says, his voice slow with exhaustion, “I’m doing a lot better. Probably be able to work starting next week.”

“One thing at a time, old man. You should just focus on getting well.” Barnaby shakes his head, but can’t help but smile.

The phone rings, cutting off Kotetsu as he’s about to speak. “Hey,” Kotetsu answers the call, keeping the video off, there’s a long pause as a deep voice on the other line speaks—and then Kotetsu is answering in rapid Japanese, words flying off his tongue—and Kotetsu listens for a time, his mouth twisting into a frown, his eyes narrowing, and he snaps something, but the other man keeps talking—and then Kotetsu stands up, too quickly, before Barnaby can grab him—and he goes totally still, all the color going out of his face. 

He says something else, something quiet and firm, and the other voice responds coldly, and then Kotetsu snaps shut his phone. Barnaby rises, then steadies Kotetsu. “Take it easy. Are you all right?”

Kotetsu swallows, slipping his phone in his pocket with a shaking hand. “Yeah, yeah. I guess I just need to take it a bit easier,” he says, sitting down heavily, his eyes glassy. “So, Bunny, what’s on the agenda for today?”

It’s completely transparent and Barnaby doesn’t take the bait. “Who was that?”

Judging by the voice, Barnaby knows for a fact it wasn’t Kotetsu’s mother or daughter. Possibly his father? It strikes him, suddenly, how little he actually knows about Kotetsu. With a sigh, Kotetsu leans back, taking in a long breath, his tense muscles relaxing by inches. 

“My brother. He uh. Is a bit angry with me, I guess,” Kotetsu shrugs, tries for a smile, but his eyes are pinched in the corners. 

Barnaby didn’t even know Kotetsu _had_ a brother until now, and he bites his lip, because it never seemed to matter that he knew nothing at all about Kotetsu’s life, but suddenly it does and he isn’t really sure how to ask. He’s never had experience in this sort of thing before, he’s not sure how to begin. “What about?” Barnaby tries to ask it as casually as he can manage. 

“Eh, you know,” Kotetsu shrugs carefully and then, realizing that, no, Barnaby does not in fact know explains, “He doesn’t really approve of my job. But it’s not really any of his business. He talks big, but he’ll get over it.”

“Why doesn’t he approve?” he asks, thinking the answer probably lies in watching the fight between Martinez and Kotetsu, but he wants to be sure, he wants to _know._

Kotetsu sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “He doesn’t understand why I keep doing this. And that’s okay, you know? Family’s like that. They have to accept you and your choices, even if they don’t like it. Maybe it makes things harder but we all do what we have to. Look, Bunny, I know you’re worried, but it’s fine, okay? Tell me how the interviews went. I meant to watch them, but I fell asleep part way through.”

The answer doesn’t even begin to answer Barnaby’s questions, but he tells Kotetsu about the interviews anyway. Their partnership seems to be built on fragile truces and something else that Barnaby can’t name. He can let Kotetsu have this round. 

Barnaby stays for a few more hours, makes sure Kotetsu gets some food into his system, and then lets the old man sleep. When he gets home, he sits in his chair and stares at the ceiling for a long while. It’s crazy to think that, not so long ago, Kotetsu was by far the least favorite person in his life and now… Barnaby shakes his head. They’ve come a long way. 

* * *

Three months later, there’s a rash of crimes across the city one Thursday evening. The heroes split into four teams: Wild Tiger and Barnaby; Blue Rose and Sky High; Dragon Kid and Fire Emblem; and Rock Bison and Origami Cyclone. Just as Barnaby is making an arrest, Agnes informs them that Rock Bison has been critically wounded in the fight—something about a NEXT who was able to nullify Antonio’s power long enough for a sniper to get a good shot in from one of the rooftops. Origami managed to subdue the NEXT and Sky High was headed over to take care of the sniper. “Rock Bison is being taken to the hospital,” Agnes informs them, “But the situation is under control. Good work, heroes.”

Kotetsu’s face is grave as they’re getting out of their suits. “You coming with?” he asks, stripping out of his undersuit. 

“Of course,” Barnaby says as he pushes his glasses up his nose. 

They arrive at the hospital just as Antonio is going into surgery. Ivan greets them with downcast eyes and Kotetsu moves to him, reaches a hand out to squeeze the kid’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault,” he says, voice soft in the sterile silence of the hospital. 

“I know,” Ivan says, but the twist of his mouth indicates otherwise. 

Nathan and Pao-lin arrive not long after, both haggard. “Have you heard anything, honey?” Nathan asks Kotetsu, who just shakes his head. 

Ivan, Nathan, Pao-lin, and Barnaby all sit in the waiting room as Kotetsu paces restlessly, all coiled power, and he looks like a caged tiger, his teeth gritted. After about an hour, Karina walks in with Keith hot on her heels. “Sorry we’re late,” she says, “We needed to take care of the press.”

“Has anything happened?” Keith asks, looking straight at Kotetsu. 

Kotetsu blows out a long breath. “No. They say he should be okay, but gun wounds are always tricky and Antonio… He’s—treating him for anything’s always complicated.” 

“You should take a seat, Kotetsu,” suggests Karina, sitting down beside Barnaby and he can see the furrow between her brows as she watches him pace. 

But he doesn’t sit, he continues pacing. This part of the hospital is reserved for the heroes, a secret wing as Agnes had described it to Barnaby, someplace where the heroes could be out of costume but still show support for one another. Barnaby hadn’t thought much of it then—he hadn’t been interested in getting close to any of his competitors, but he finds himself glad for it now, even as Kotetsu tries his hardest to run a rut through the floor. After it becomes obvious Kotetsu is going to keep pacing, Ivan asks, quietly, “What do you mean, it’s complicated to treat him?”

Nathan grimaces as Kotetsu finally stills. His fingers curl and uncurl, but he doesn’t answer the question, just stares at the door. So, Nathan answers instead. “His power activates subconsciously whenever he feels like he’s in danger. If they don’t succeed in knocking him unconscious right when he’s brought in, his power will activate, making it almost impossible to treat him. Antonio’s skin gets too thick for anything to pierce and it’s impossible for him to be operated on until he comes to his senses and turns his power off. Depending on the initial injury, however…” Nathan shakes his head, voice trailing off. 

They wait in silence after that. Nobody mentions that it’s a school night, so Karina and Pao-lin should really go home; nobody mentions when Kotetsu’s phone rings at the time of night when Kaede usually calls and he ignores it. Eventually, Barnaby stands and pulls Kotetsu back to a seat. Kotetsu just stares at him for a moment, face unreadable and then he nods, allowing his partner to manhandle him. Barnaby wishes he wasn’t so awful at this, because maybe then he could think of something to say. 

But nobody else can think of anything to say, either. Normally, everyone is so loud, so vibrant and bright it’s nearly blinding. He doesn’t think he’s seen them this quiet since the hush of the Martinez incident and he swallows thickly, surprised, because he barely knows Rock Bison and he—

The nurse shows up then. “He’s stable,” he says, “He can take visitors now. Not all of you at once, but a few.”

Kotetsu is on his feet and so are Ivan and Nathan. The three of them head back, while the rest wait. If Barnaby hadn’t kicked himself of the habit years ago, he’d bite his nails. Kotetsu looks raw, torn open and wild, and he doesn’t know how to help. 

They’re gone for awhile, before Ivan comes back, looking smaller and paler than usual. “He’s asleep. You can go see him now if you want. The doctor said it was fine. I think—Nathan told me to go home so I—“

Keith nods at him. “If you will wait for a few moments, I can give you a ride.” 

With a sharp nod of thanks, Ivan collapses in a chair. His eyes scrunch shut. Barnaby follows Keith, Karina, and Pao-lin to Antonio’s room. Antonio is ashen, wrapped in bandages, looking like a good gust of wind would send him flying into a million pieces. It simply goes to show that invincibility is as much a farce as everything else. Kotetsu looks up from where he’s seated in the chair by the bed. “Hey,” he says, quiet, throat convulsing around the simple word. “Doctor’s say he should be out by the end of the week, at the latest.”

Nathan’s hand closes over Kotetsu’s shoulder and it’s then Barnaby realizes his partner is shaking. He spares one last glance at Antonio, before going to him. “Are you all right?” he asks, softly. 

“Yeah. Yeah. Don’t worry about me, Bunny,” and it’s too light, too cheery. 

“Are you…” Barnaby pauses, pushes his glasses further up his nose, so that frame bites briefly into the bridge, “Are you going to stay here, Kotetsu?”

Kotetsu looks over at Antonio, eyes distant and faraway, and Barnaby can’t for the life of him guess what Kotetsu is thinking. “Don’t want to leave him,” he murmurs and the grip Nathan has on his shoulder tightens. 

“Honey, I think maybe you should get some sleep. I’ll stay and call you if anything changes.”

“Ko—tetsu,” and it’s Antonio’s exhausted, thin voice rasping at them, “Go home. I don’t want you here.”

His breath comes out in short pants, his eyes fluttering as he tries to open them. Karina’s fingers settle against his wrist. “Shh—it’s okay. We’ll send him home. I’ll drag him myself, if I have to. Just—rest, Antonio. The doctors say you need rest.”

“Don’t need to—tell me… twice,” and Barnaby thinks, briefly, that Antonio is asleep even before the words are completely out of his mouth. 

Kotetsu stares at Antonio for a long time, before his mouth curls into a smile. “Well, he’ll kick my ass if he finds out I stayed,” and that’s relief in his voice, even though he’s still shaking. 

“I’ll drive you home,” Barnaby says, immediately, because he doesn’t trust Kotetsu to drive—but, more than that, he wants to make sure with his own eyes that Kotetsu is going to be okay, because Kotetsu worries and worries and—well, evidently Barnaby is not much better. 

With a nod and a wave to the others, Kotetsu leads Barnaby out. He navigates the hospital on auto-pilot, like he knows the place as well as he knows his own home. Kotetsu doesn’t look at the signs, doesn’t go to the wrong elevator, barely glances at where they are. It makes Barnaby swallow, because ten years is a long time to be a hero, and how many times has Kotetsu been here, either to be treated himself or to stand beside someone else who got hurt?

They’re walking out the back door of the hospital when a woman calls, “Kotetsu!” 

One of the doctors hurries after them. A dark-skinned woman with curly, wispy hair and laugh lines feathered around her eyes. She’s tall and shapely, smiling at Kotetsu like he’s the best thing she’s ever seen. “Amelia,” he grins, easily, hands sliding into his pockets. “Long time no see.”

“No kidding! How’s Kaede?” she asks, standing next to him, hand on his shoulder. 

Kotetsu’s smile softens around the edges, a little sad and wistful, and Barnaby shifts uncomfortable, unsure how these two know one another, unsure if he should maybe leave before the woman puts the pieces together, that Kotetsu is here with Barnaby Brooks Jr. and therefore put Kotetsu’s secret identity at risk. “She’s doing good. You should see her, Amelia, she’s smart and funny and she helps my mom out without being asked… She’s—she’s growing up a lot like her mother.”

“Tomoe would be proud, I think. Of both of you. Haven’t seen you since that whole mess with Martinez, but I wanted to tell you to be careful, you doofus,” her expression sobers, her voice a quiet timbre, “She’d be turning over in her grave if she saw you being so reckless.”

This woman knows Kotetsu’s identity? Barnaby swallows, wondering again, who she is and her connection to Kotetsu, but he says nothing, instead folds his arms over his chest. Kotetsu laughs, uncomfortable, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah, I know. I just… Gotta do everything I can, for Stern Bild. Just who I am. You know, as a hero.”

“You need to take care of yourself too, sweetheart. Now listen, I’ve been working for _ever_ , so I’m gonna head home to the husband. He’s got dinner waiting for me and I’d hate to be much later than I already am. So you call me, we’ll go get dinner or coffee or something. We’ll catch up, all right?” She pats him on the arm, before pulling back. 

Kotetsu grins. “Yeah, sure thing. Have a nice night, Amelia.”

Both Kotetsu and Barnaby watch her walk to her car. They stay a few moments longer, standing awkward in the parking lot, before Barnaby asks, without turning to face Kotetsu, “Who was she?”

“…My wife’s oncologist,” Kotetsu says, voice quiet. 

Barnaby looks at him then and swallows, because they’ve never talked about Kotetsu’s wife—Tomoe?—and he asks, voice even as he can manage, “So you’re still close with her?” he pauses, looks away again, “She must have taken good care of your wife.”

“We both liked her a lot. Everyone was nice, but Amelia was our favorite. Even at—at the end, she could make me and Tomoe laugh. She’s great. I try and get a hold of her whenever I can, but you know. Being a hero doesn’t leave much free time, and neither does being an oncologist. So…” Kotetsu shrugs, trailing off. 

“Ready to go?” Barnaby asks.

Kotetsu nods, grateful, then and puts his mask on. They leave in the motorcycle and Barnaby feels awful to drop him off, but, somehow, he thinks maybe Kotetsu just wants to be alone for a while. That’s a feeling Barnaby can certainly understand. 

* * *

Barnaby comes to and the world spins, and he feels like his whole body has been run over by a train.  The sterile white of a hospital greets him and he thinks, vaguely, _oh good, I’m alive_. It’s after that he remembers how he got here. A collapsing building, made weak by fire. Of course it was fire, the one thing he hates above all others. The universe does have a sense of humor, doesn’t it? Hopefully his burns won’t be so extensive. 

“Bunny?” and he knows that voice, knows it well, and he would smile, bright, if he knew how, because he’s really not sure how this body of his is supposed to work.

But, despite that setback, he manages to look at Kotetsu, who is sitting beside the bed. Looks like he’s been there awhile too. His eyes are all puffy because the idiot doesn’t sleep enough. No one else is here, so probably he’s been out for a while, or else the others would be here, because for some reason, they all care about him. Or at least feel some form of responsibility for him when he is injured. “…Why are you here?” he asks, or tries. 

Apparently he inhaled smoke, because his voice doesn’t even sound like words, just air escaping his esophagus. 

Kotetsu is a saint,or a hero. Yes, a hero. Definitely a hero. He puts a straw to Barnaby’s lips and it’s water, cool and wonderful and amazing, and Barnaby slurps it down as quick as Kotetsu will permit him. Once he’s done, Kotetsu tells him, “You’re healing up real good, Bunny. You weren’t hurt too bad. Probably gonna have to use your power to fix any scars, but eh, it happens,” except Kotetsu sounds upset about it and Barnaby wants to tell him not to worry, but that seems like too much work and the bed is rather comfortable. “Gonna have to get a hair cut, though. Just a bit. It’s… singey. Not cool for a hero.”

And he wants to be worried about that, but Kotetsu is sitting right there and everything is okay, so he drifts off again, thinks maybe they have him on some great drugs if he’s not having nightmares. 

 

When he comes to next, Kotetsu is still there and everything seems clearer. He doesn’t try to speak before Kotetsu offers him water. Barnaby drinks it as quickly as he dares, before managing in a soft voice, “How long have I been here?”

“Only 36 hours. You’ve been pretty out of it,” Kotetsu smiles at him, exhaustion making his lids hang heavy. 

Barnaby nods, letting Kotetsu rearrange his pillows so he’s sitting up. He tries for a smile and thinks he manages from the way Kotetsu practically lights up. After some more water and a thorough mental inventory of how he feels—poorly, but not the worst he’s ever felt—he thinks that he’ll be able to talk a little. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks, then, because that sounds more acerbic than he intends, “I’m glad to see you, but… You and hospitals get along poorly.”

There’s a brief pause, then Kotetsu is laughing. “You’re my partner. I wasn’t gonna leave you here by yourself or with Nathan. He might’ve tried something funny, you know him.”

And well, maybe at some point, he’ll try and get Kotetsu over his hospital thing—or, better yet, see to it that he doesn’t have to come to them as frequently—but for now this is enough. Barnaby smiles, settling into his bed more comfortably. “Well, since you’re here, entertain me. I’m bored.”

“Such a demanding Bunny! Not cute, not cute!” but there’s laughter in Kotetsu’s voice and, well, maybe hospitals don’t have to be all bad. 

 


End file.
